Unstoppable force meets immovable object
by BillyTheMadHatter
Summary: Lying face down on the cold stone floor of a dungeon, Arthur Pendragon tried to figure out where his day had gone wrong. Reveal fic, written prior to season 5.


Lying face down on the cold stone floor of a dungeon, Arthur Pendragon tried to figure out where his day had gone wrong.

It had started out pretty good, he thought. He had woken up next to Gwen, which was, need he say it, wonderful. He had somehow managed to get up before Merlin arrived, crashing around their room, which would have woken him rudely had they still been sleeping. That had to be a good point all by itself. A meeting with the guild of heralds he had been prepared to suffer through had been cancelled. And that was just as well since no one, not even the ancient heralds, could keep their eyes open through these things.

Then he'd had training with the knights. Oh, and then there was the hunting trip with Merlin for the most recent monster sighted near Camelot. Supposedly, the monster wasn't actually that dangerous, or at least that was what the sheepish lord reporting on it had said. Bringing the rest of the knights hadn't seemed necessary and really he'd just wanted the closest thing a king could get to an afternoon off; it had been a tough month. In all honesty he should have seen this coming. When did things ever go right on hunting trips these days?

It was on that trip that they had been ambushed by a dozen sorcerers down on their luck enough to be willing to work for Morgana. Eventually, they had been defeated, being outnumbered, and taken as prisoners. The key word being 'eventually.' By the time they were done with them, there were only five sorcerers left standing, and Arthur was pretty sure he'd only defeated three of them. That meant the other four had been dealt with by Merlin, which was of course absurd.

Or it would have been, if he had not seen Merlin's eyes glow golden and heard him speak words that were most commonly associated with, well, magic. At which point the four sorcerers had simply keeled over and gone to sleep in the middle of battle.

_'Whatever happens out there today… Please don't think any differently of me.'_

He went back to staring at the floor. The grey stone was actually quite interesting, now that he got a better chance to observe it. Very smooth, for a dungeon floor, come to that. He never had time to notice these things anymore, ever since he took over the throne. Or had he ever bothered to, even before that?

Probably not, he decided. On the long run, floors aren't that fascinating.

Fighting the aching sensation in his head (he'd been laid out cold by a knock to the skull. Apparently sorcerers were also practical enough to go for hand-to-hand combat) he tried to recall the events that had landed him in this now increasingly uncomfortable position.

Ah, yes. After Merlin had noticed that Arthur wasn't completely blind and happened to be standing right there next to him when … magic happened, his eyes had widened in panic, and he had raised his hand, eyes flashing once more, and said another spell. There had been a bright light, and Arthur had managed to cover his eyes just in time. The sorcerers hadn't been so lucky, and had all blinked confusedly for a moment, before knocking a stunned Arthur out, and had presumably done the same to Merlin. Well, it wasn't Arthur's fault he hadn't reacted in time. It wasn't as if this sort of thing happened every day. Well, maybe a few times a year. Or month. Week, maybe. But definitely not _every _day.

He had woken up as two guards had dragged him down to this dungeon, chatting obnoxiously all the while. He had turned his head to see that Merlin was being escorted the same way, a grim look on his face and traces of anxiety visible on the edges of his expression. When he noticed Arthur was conscious, panic momentarily obscured his face, but he had gestured for him to be quiet. Turning his attention to the guards, Arthur had listened to them talk.

'Some use those wand-wavers turned out to be,' muttered the tall one.

'Oh, yeah. Don't know why 'er ladyship bothers with 'em,' said the short one.

'I mean, they can't deal with two lone blokes almost completely unarmed, and they have magic. And they end up accidentally attacking their own team and knocking them out. Magic. Can't trust it,' Tall said sagely. Arthur had blinked, because that made no sense. Merlin had put the sorcerers to sleep, not their own allies. Risking a glance at his servant, eyebrow raised inquisitively, Merlin had only shrugged sheepishly, a slightly embarrassed expression on his face. Huh. That would explain the flash of light, then.

Short shrugged. 'Eh, might just depend on if yer a moron or not. And don't say that, Lady Morgana might 'ere ye.'

'What, all the way down here?' Said Tall, a tad mockingly.

'Well, yeah. They say she can see thru' walls an' all. Might be a bad idea to piss off a witch like that.'

'Oooh, I'm scared.'

'Better put 'em in separate cells. 'er ladyship says they can't be trusted not to escape if they're in the same room.' At which point he had been unceremoniously chucked, nose first, through a cell door.

Which was how Arthur had ended up, here, face down on the cold stone floor of the dungeon, navel gazing the minutes away.

When he was feeling sufficiently steady to get up, he did, and took a look at his surroundings. It was actually pretty decent, as cells went. He had seen a few in his day, and most were full of rats and smelled disgusting. This one was aired, comfortably large and with a stone bench on one end. He'd give it three stars out of five. One thing it did not have, however, was any means of escape. There was a window letting in a small amount of light, and it seemed that outside it was drawing towards evening. But, it was about three times too small for Arthur to even squeeze through (and that did _not _make him fat, whatever Merlin might try to tell you.) The door was oak, four inches thick and iron plated, closed on the outside with two padlocks.

Striding back and forth through the room, he inspected every wall, corner and niche for a weakness, finding none whatsoever. Fantastic. Guess he'd just have to wait for a rescue team or dumb luck to come knocking. That always seemed to happen to him eventually in these situations.

_'Do you know how many times I have saved your life?'_

This lack of anything productive to do with his time, since dungeons aren't exactly famed for their recreational qualities, dragged his attention back to his former problem.

Or, more accurately, A Problem.

The capital letters were most certainly deserved.

He went on striding the length of the cell and then back again, counting the steps, trying to quell his yelling, screaming, bewildered thoughts. _Magic, sorcery, evil, Merlin, bad… _

Growling in irritation, he gave in to them, since it seemed that they wouldn't be quiet if he didn't sort them out.

Fine. It seemed that his servant _(best friend…) _had been lying to him for possibly quite a while about his… abilities. _(one step, two steps, three steps, turn…)_ He had seen people preforming magic a lot during these last years, but seldom something so effective from one person. He could have sworn he had felt the power radiating from his smaller friend. It had made his hair stand on end. _(one step, two steps, three steps, turn…) _And the sorcerers hadn't even had time to react. It had all happened so fast. And then there was the flash of light, which could probably be called something like a spell of forgetfulness. _(one step, two steps, three steps, turn. Stop.)_

_Why would he lie?_

He laughed mockingly at himself, because, really? Did he really just ask himself that question? Oh, maybe it was because not lying would mean death by fire/hanging/decapitation almost instantly? Because people with such talents were ostracised everywhere they went in his kingdom? Because his father himself had set these laws, and he, while not exactly upholding them, hadn't really repealed them either? Merlin would have had to been mad to tell anyone, if he valued his life. This, considering how often he got himself into danger, was pretty questionable to begin with. _(one step, two steps, halt…) _

_ 'I'm going to be by your side, like I always am. Protecting you.'_

But, still, despite himself it… hurt. Knowing that the one person you trust with your life without question has been lying to you since god knows when.

_But if that's true, why would he stay?_

At least that was a valid question. Why risk something like that when he had lived almost far enough away to keep himself hidden? To kill him?

_Are you stupid? _Said his inner voice, which sounded suspiciously like a certain dark haired servant. _He could have killed you so many times over by now, you'd practically be alive again! Or he could just not jump between you and every danger which came within thirty miles of your pratish arse. _

_ 'I had no idea you were so keen to die for me.' 'I hardly believe it myself.'_

Well… That made sense. But still, why stay? Hell, he could have gone over to every other kingdom that accepted magic, but to come to Camelot had to be the height of his stupidity, and since Merlin had done a _lot _of stupid things throughout their friendship, that was saying something.

_'I believe in you. I always have.'_

He remembered the look he sometimes saw on Merlin's face, in _those _moments, when it seemed that the future they all hoped for was merely a fantasy. The bad times, like when yet another person had been sentenced to death for some desperate crime, when Morgana had had shown her true allegiances, when Aggrevaine had joined her. When they had closed the veil. And, when he thought back, when Arthur himself was being 'clotpole' during the time Guinivere had left.

_'Destinies... are troublesome things. You feel trapped. Like your whole life is being planned out for you, and you've got no control over anything, and sometimes you don't even know if the destiny decided is... really the best thing at all.'_

And on top of that, he was faced with the magic conundrum.

_Magic is evil, magic corrupts everyone who uses it, and so this means they must be evil as well._

This he had been taught since he was old enough to know what the words meant, had it drilled into his skull and in the end it had stuck there. Magic equals evil, evil equals magic. Case solved.

Morgana seemed at first glance like a textbook example of this. Kidnapped by a witch, returned, corrupted. Petty, acting like a spoiled child that had never heard the word _no_. Except that while a child might throw things at the walls and scream, Morgan had killed people for no good reason or advantage to herself. Or maybe it was just the beginning of the trend where everyone close to him betrayed him. _(not everyone, though…)_

It all seemed pretty straightforward. Magic made you evil.

Except… When those rules went up against Merlin, they might as well have tried to demolish a stone wall with a head of cabbage. Because really, if there was anyone that you would have a hard time calling evil, that would be Merlin. Annoying, yes. Incompetent at his job, most definitely. Disrespectful, oh god yes. But evil? The idea was laughable.

Maybe that was just because it was, well, Merlin. After all, he seemed to make a point of not following rules, never mind how firmly established those rules were, like respect for the King, for example.

_'It is your fate to be the greatest king Camelot has ever known.'_

If anyone was going to defy the corruption of magic, it would be Merlin. It was a heartening thought.

But could he really allow himself to believe that? That it was just this single case, that it was special just because it was associated with him in some way? Wouldn't that make him just as much of a hypocrite he increasingly believed his father to have been? His father, who had always preached against magic, right up until the moment it was in his interest to use it. He knew now that Morgause hadn't been lying, when she called up his mother's spirit all that time ago. He knew what his father had been like. If he could blame someone else for his own failings and mistakes, he would. As for Merlin…

_ 'I'm happy to be your servant. 'Till the day I die.'_

Always when he turned, whatever the circumstances, who would he find standing next to him, friendly insults at the ready?

His words… At least some of them, seemed to make sense when put into context with magic. All those times he seemed about to say something and then changed the subject or simply stayed quiet. All those times he simply made no sense… Although that could just be idiosyncratic to Merlin.

The facts were these:

Magic = Evil

Merlin = Magic

Merlin =/= Evil

Huh. Well, if you thought about it like that, it seemed that he was faced with a false dichotomy. One of these had to be false, or none of it would make any sense.

In the end, it was obvious. Fact one might very well be an unstoppable force, but it seemed like it had finally met the immovable object. Therefore:

Magic =/= Evil

He nodded in satisfaction, glad that that had been sorted out, and went on looking for a way to escape. He had a friend to rescue and possibly defenestrate.


End file.
